What Boredom May Bring
by silentnight00
Summary: Ava Potter was bored. Anyone who knows her, knows how dangerous that could be. A bored Ava is trouble just waiting to happen. Only, no one could have foreseen this. Fem!Harry. HP/LV Eventual Dark!Harry
1. Chapter 1

Ava sat on her ratty old mattress, bored out of her mind, bouncing an old tennis ball off of the wall opposite of her. The Dursley's were all out for the day and instead of locking her outside the house like they usually did when they're gone, they left her locked in her tiny room with no way out. The sad thing is that she couldn't decide if they did it on purpose, or if they actually forgot she was up there.

She really needed the toilet.

And a snack.

Her relatives had left her locked in her room for most of the last week she had been back. She was convinced they were trying to forget she existed. The whole, if you can't see it, it's not real thing. They didn't even make her do a huge list of her usual "chores" either. In fact, the only interaction she had with them so far was her uncle taking his belt to her when she woke them up by having a nightmare that left her screaming. She still has the welts and lash marks even days later.

She didn't mind the solitude really. It was a nice change. The only down side was that she got even less food than usual. She could already see her ribs again. That didn't usually happen until at least the 3rd week back.

Continuing to toss the ball and having it bounce back to catch it she started humming a random song that had been stuck in her head all day. She didn't know where the song came from. She was sure she had never heard it before. But it kept the boredom at bay so she didn't mind. It also kept her mind off of her recent blunder. This one ended with her godfather's death. She couldn't even blame the enemy for it either. It was her fault. Hers and her headmasters. Albus tomanynames Dumbledore who would rather keep her in the dark than let her know anything important.

* * *

After a few more hours, and silently wondering if the Dursley's decided to jump ship and never come back, Ava was laying on her back, staring at the ceiling. She was using the sting from the welts and torn skin to try to ignore the feeling of her bladder about to burst.

Just as she was contemplating banging her head against the wall, a feeling of annoyance drifted through her. A feeling that wasn't her own.

She sat up with a curious look, wondering what had the snake-man so annoyed that it crossed the link. Her occlumency was much better than before, having nothing better to do after the ministry debacle than practice, so he must be really really annoyed for it to cross over. Either that, or She was so bored that she subconsciously dropped her barriers looking for some entertainment.

With nothing else to do, and no one there to stop her, she did something so Gryffindorish, so stupid, that she actually questioned her own sanity. She mentally prodded the link for the first time. She dropped her occulmency just enough to let current thought and feeling through and sent a feeling of complete boredom over. Or at least hoped she did. She wasn't sure how this thing worked after all. The feeling of surprise and slight wariness she got in return was encouraging.

She sent more boredom and a bit of curiosity, feeling a bit giddy, though not sure why exactly. Maybe she really was an adrenaline junky like some of her friends accused her of being. Apparently danger really did excite her.

She smiled widely at the mental prod she felt. For some reason this prod made her think of Voldemort poking at a dangerous, unknown creature with a stick, wondering if it'll attack. The sudden slamming closed of the link following slight anger and embarrassment made her think that that image and thought had gotten through to him.

She laughed loudly, boredom momentarily forgotten. "Who knew Voldemort was human enough to feel embarrassment?" She chuckled to herself.

* * *

The Dursley's returned about an hour later, she could hear them banging around downstairs. She really hoped they let her out soon. The need to pee was getting painful. She knew better than to try getting their attention. That would only result in a beating which would probably make her piss herself at this point which would then probably make the beating worse. And contrary to popular belief, she did in fact have some self preservation.

* * *

Ava thanked every God and deity she had ever heard of when they finally let her out, practically sprinting to the bathroom. Afterwards she was given a cheese sandwich, a glass of water, and sent back to her room.

The next day seemed like just a repeat of the day before. Boredom was suffocating her. She was so bored she truly thought it would be the death of her. So bored she actually wished she had her school things with her so she could do her homework. That 3 feet long potions essay seemed awfully enticing at the moment.

 _"_ _Would you stop the insistent whining?"_

The sudden voice in her head startled her so much that she jolted up and took a tumble out of her bed. She froze when she hit the floor, eyes wide.

 _It's official._ She thought to herself. _The Dursley's have finally driven me insane._

The sudden feeling of amusement that shot through her made her groan in embarrassment. She forgot to bring up her occlumency barriers after her short exploration of the link yesterday.

 _"_ _Yes, that was rather idiotic of you."_

Before she could give a witty comeback, the pounding on her door caused her to flinch, realizing that her fall had made a rather loud thud. She wasn't allowed to make noise. How could her relatives forget she existed if they could still hear her?

"Girl! One more sound out of you and you'll regret it!" Her uncle bellowed through the door before stomping away.

Ava stayed frozen for a moment longer before she got up as quietly as possible, her back giving a twinge as the scabbing skin pulled as if to remind her why she didn't want her uncle's anger directed onto her.

The feeling of curiosity and confusion that drifted through had her throwing up her barriers so fast she got a headache and was sure Voldemort probably did to. Her face flushed in shame hoping beyond hope that none of that got through to her enemy. Not even her friends knew what she went through in this prison she was forced to call home. Giving her enemy even more ammunition to use against her like that was the last thing the dark-haired girl wanted or needed.

* * *

 _ **The Dark Lord**_

The Dark Lord Voldemort clutched his head in pain, cursing the infuriating little thorn in his side for so violently throwing him out of her head. He wasn't even sure why he went there to begin with. He couldn't look through her memories or even send her false visions to torment her. With her surprisingly strong occlumency the only thing he could do was sense her feelings and whatever she was thinking at the time. And only when her barriers were dropped slightly like they just were.

He supposed it was curiosity. He was still getting used to feeling again after being nothing but a wraith for so long, and then Wormtail horrendously messing up his rebirth potion causing temporary insanity and a rather grotesque image of himself. He had just finished the daily potions he had to take until the issue has been corrected. It left him feeling out of sorts. Until he got used to feelings again, he would act on them more than he'd like to admit.

When he had first felt the prod on the link from Potter's end he though she was trying to break through to get information on him. Until he felt the absolute, mind numbing boredom that followed the prod. Then he was just incredulous. _The girl was poking at him because she was bored!?_

So, feeling curious but also weary, he poked back. What could he say? He was bored too. Being sane again made it to where he couldn't just crucio his followers whenever he wanted. He was still weary though, expecting his enemy to attack if he let his guard down for a second.

The impression he got in return made him flush in embarrassment for reasons unknown and shut the annoying chit out.

Then, having nothing to do a day later, he decided to try the link again, unable to deny his damnable curiosity. He quickly realized that she never closed her side of the link and was instantly besieged with thoughts of boredom. Really, did she have nothing to do!? Was the order training her or anything, or did she think she didn't need to train to defeat him? It was kind of insulting.

 _"Would you stop the insistent whining?"_

He thought to her, annoyed. It turned to amusement when he realized he had surprised her into falling out of what he assumed was a bed. His amusement got even stronger when she thought she was going insane.

 _"_ _So stupid. Forgot to close the link."_

The words drifted lazily across to him meaning she was thinking to herself and not him.

 _"Yes, that was rather idiotic of you."_

Voldemort could feel her need to snap at him before the feeling of fear and slight pain replaced it. The fear and pain was not from him so he tried to prod a bit deeper getting a slightly fuzzy memory of a big whale of a man with a belt in hand, standing over her. The memory came easier than he thought it would meaning that she was probably thinking about it. This only confused him. Why was she thinking about that? Who was this man and why did she fear him so? She never felt that when facing himself.

 _"_ _I'm not allowed to make noise. How could my relatives forget I exist if they could still hear me."_

That made him curious and confused. Not allowed to make noise? Forget she existed? What kind of people did the golden girl live with?

The sudden mortification he felt from her end and the slamming of her occlumency barriers caused a sharp spike of pain to shoot through his head. He cursed her for a minute or two before trying to determine what he had seen in his enemies mind. It took a few seconds to remember the fat man was towering over her holding a leather belt. A belt dripping with blood.

Surprise shot through him. Surly that couldn't be her uncle that Snape mentioned once. Everyone was under the impression that the girl-who-lived was spoiled rotten. This needed looking into. Why would she be fighting for the light and defending muggles if they treated her so deplorably.


	2. Chapter 2

Ava was happily humming a tune as she worked in the blistering heat. She was sure to get sunburn, but she was just happy to be out of that bedroom. Gardening was always her favorite chore. Right up there with cooking. It was a relaxing repetitive chore that didn't take much thought.

She pulled the weeds and put them in a bucket to throw away later, then she watered the flowers, once in a while putting mulch down to help them grow. She'd prune them, remove any unsightly ones, and keep everything pristine. Easy and time consuming.

Number 4 private drive was known to have the best garden in the neighborhood. Ava didn't even mind that her aunt got all of the credit. She was fine with just privately feeling pride in her accomplishment. It helped that both her and her aunt knew that without Ava, the garden would have never looked so good. It really got to her mother's sister that the scrawny 15-year old was just an all-around better housewife than her. Not that Ava wanted to be, but with doing all of the housework, both indoor and out, since she could walk kind of made it happen.

It was while she was weeding, without gloves since she wasn't good enough to wear any, that she felt a sharp prod at the connection between her and the Dark Lord. Ava paused in her motions, wondering what the hell he wanted. It had been three days since her boredom had initiated contact with her fated enemy and all had been quiet on his end since she had unceremoniously thrown him out of her head.

Now she had to decide if it was worth the risk in answering his "call" so to speak. She glanced around, looking for watchers. Her aunt was out at the store, her uncle wasn't due back from work for a couple of hours, and her cousin was out terrorizing some poor middle schooler. She knew she had a guard out there somewhere but they watched her surroundings more than they watched her. She was locked out of the house until her aunt got home, which she was assured wouldn't be until late tonight. She was having tea with her book club or something after the store.

Ava looked over the garden she was weeding. She was almost done, her slightly bloody hands gripping the last weed. She'd just have to water them next and she would be done. Then she would have nothing to do but sit in the hot sun until her aunt got home.

She decided that it was worth the risk.

Opening her side of the connection slightly she sent down a feeling of curiosity, not feeling like "voicing" her question as she worked to finish her chore, easily ignoring the stinging of her hands. You really weren't supposed to weed without gloves. Or garden in general.

 _"Does the order even train you, or do they expect your extraordinary amount of luck to save them all?"_ He sounded incredulous, obviously getting snippets of her day as she causally thought about it.

Ava actually snorted in amusement. He sounded slightly offended.

" _I try to not even think about what goes through their heads. I assume that they think whatever miracle happened when I was 1 will happen again. Either that or they want me to die because even I can see that I don't stand a chance."_

 _"Ava Potter, admitting to being weaker than her enemy?"_ Now he sounded amused and a spark of annoyance went through her.

 _"Less trained and being forcibly kept in the dark about a lot of things. NOT weaker."_ She yanked the last weed up a bit too hard, deepening a once shallow cut on her palm.

Cursing, she threw the offending plant into the bucket and looked at her hand that was now dripping blood. Shallow scratches and thin cuts littered her fingers and palm, but the one in the very center was a bit wider and deeper than the others, obviously being the injury she had just given herself.

With a grumble, she made her way to the watering hose and washed it off, hoping that it wouldn't get infected before she could properly bandage it.

 _"Gardening without gloves is idiotic Potter."_ She could feel his amusement growing.

 _"Bastard. Is there a reason you're bothering me? I'm not an expert but I don't think you're supposed to be casually chatting with an enemy."_

 _"You're the one that started it, poking at our link because you were bored. Have you no sense girl?"_

 _"I was bored."_ She knew her reply would sound petulant, but it was kind of hard monitoring her replies when they were happening in her head.

 _"And I'm bored now. Entertain me Potter."_ His imperious command made her grit her teeth in anger.

 _"Go torture your minions! That's what they are there for. I am NOT one of your lackeys."_ She was starting to regret letting her boredom win.

Still grumbling insulting things about a certain snake-human hybrid, Ava went about watering the flowerbeds. She smirked when the insulted and irritated feeling flowed back to her.

 _"I do not look like my mother 'got it on' with a snake, Potter!"_ Even in the mind she could hear the snarl he let loose.

Ava smirked. Irritating the Dark Lord might just become an interesting past time for her. He wanted her dead anyway, why not give him an _actual_ reason. She must have a death wish.

 _"So, the whole hairless, no nose, Scaly skin was from your father then?"_

Her scar prickled uncomfortably as his irritation grew. It just made her smirk widen.

 _"I'll have you know that that was Wormtail's fault. It has since been corrected."_ It sounded like Pettigrew was in trouble.

 _"Of course, it was. It's **Wormtail**. You're lucky to have come out of that ritual at all with him preforming it. Please tell me you punished him for it? Made him scream? Bleed? Weep for his mummy?"_ She usually kept the darker parts of her thoughts to herself. The golden girl shouldn't enjoy the pain of others after all, even that of her enemy. But Pettigrew was a special case and it was hard filtering her thoughts while speaking in her mind. Besides, it was the Dark Lord. Who would believe him if he told someone that the girl-who-lived fantasized about torturing someone?

 _"You fantasize about torturing people, Potter?"_ He obviously caught her thought and ignored the part about no one believing him. It was true after all.

 _"Just Pettigrew. And maybe Rita Skeeter. Sometimes Fudge. Dumbledore squeezes his way in there once in a while."_

A laugh echoed in her head and she couldn't help but grin as well. It wasn't his usual evil cackle, nor was he laughing at her. Her response had genuinely amused him. That had to be a first.

 _"I don't know Skeeter well, nor do I read her drivel, but the others I wouldn't deny the chance to have at my mercy. You could say that torturing Pettigrew is a past-time of mine. It's a good stress reliever."_

Ava snickered as she finished watering the flowers and moved to sit down under the shade of a tree. She casually tore off a part of her ratty, hand-me down shirt and wrapped it around her still sluggishly bleeding hand.

 _"You should probably tend to that properly, girl."_

 _"I will when I'm allowed inside. Most likely later tonight."_ Ava shrugged and leaned back against the tree.

 _"Why do you fight for the muggles, Potter? They don't seem to treat you well."_

The Girl-Who-Lived raised an eyebrow at the question. He was obviously digging for information, but she couldn't really figure out his angle.

 _"Well, Tom, I don't see how that's any of your business."_

 _"Do not call me by that accursed name girl!"_ Ava flinched as his shout echoed in her head.

 _Jeez, someone has daddy issues._ She meant to think that part to herself, really, she did. It was just a stray thought that she couldn't control. The absolute rage that seared through her mind proved that her efforts were futile. Now it was her turn to get a headache as the Dark Lord slammed the connection closed. Her head actually jerked back from the force.

With a groan of pain, Ava gripped her head tightly with both hands as it felt like it was splitting apart. She felt a warm wetness start sliding down her face as she fell into her side, still clutching at her skull. She completely ignored that blood that was now streaming from her cursed scar and shut her eyes tightly against the pain.

Her scar had never hurt this bad before. She couldn't decide if it was because she willing had the connection open and they were conversing, or if she had unintentionally made him angrier than he's ever been. She would guess that it was a bit of both.

She shouldn't care that she made him angry. She really shouldn't. He was her enemy and was always trying to kill her. He was a crazy psychopath with a hair-trigger temper and murdered her parents.

 _So why did she feel the foolish need to apologize?_

The Dark Lord

Lord Voldemort was bored. Excruciatingly so. Most of his more entertaining minions were off doing jobs for him, even the rat Wormtai was out on a mission so he couldn't entertain himself by torturing the sniveling coward.

His new project was slow going and he didn't really want to bring any of his Death Eaters in on it since this needed a more delicate touch than most were capable of. He also didn't want to draw attention from Dumbledore with this. Learning more about Ava Potter.

Ever since she had first poked at their connection he had been intrigued by the girl. The fact that she could be potentially being abused by her relatives was interesting. Everyone was under the impression that the Girl-Who-Lived was spoiled rotten by her family. An impression that Dumbledore started. Which begs the question, does he know how's she actually treated, or was he just blind?

The fact that he started those rumors pointed to the fact that he knew and was deliberately giving everyone a false impression of the girl. But why? What was the point of that?

The boredom, mixed with these questions, made him come to the decision to prod at the connection and see if she would be curious enough to answer.

The curiosity he felt from her end put a smirk on his face. Though the seemingly endless number of chores that the girl was thinking about was irritating. They really didn't train her. How insulting.

The girl was irritating. He knew she was doing it on purpose, so he decided to join the fun. Her annoyance was delicious. Though if she alluded to his mother having relations with a snake one more time, he would not be responsible for his actions.

The Dark Lord actually laughed out loud in genuine humor at the fact the Light savior fantasized about torturing people, especially Dumbledore. The images that flashed through her mind, that he was sure she didn't truly notice, were very interesting. She had a good imagination for torture. He might even use some of her ideas himself. He especially liked the one where she had Dumbledore tied up and she kept shoving his stupid lemon drops down his throat until he choked and then she wrapped his beard around his neck and _pulled._ Oh, that image was glorious, made even better that it was herself, Dumbledore's own weapon, that was doing it.

 _Why the hell was this girl on the Light side?_

It became even more obvious that her relatives were horrible people when she revealed that she wasn't allowed back inside the house until her aunt came back. It was hot outside and she had very little shade and no water. She'd be lucky if that cut on her hand didn't get infected.

It was also the fact that the girl wasn't bothered by this that really showed how she lived. She acted like this was a common occurrence and the casual way that she ripped her own horrid shirt to bandage the wound spoke of past experience.

When he asked why she was fighting for muggle rights when she was treated so horribly by them he was genuinely curious, but he also wanted to know if it was possible to convert her to his side. Training or no, the chit was awfully difficult to kill.

It wasn't like the Dark side wanted to kill off all of the muggles either, though he was sure some of his followers wanted nothing more than to do that. No, he was all for complete separation. With the way things were going it wouldn't be long before they were outed to the world. It would be the witch hunts all over again, only this time the muggles were advanced enough in their weaponry to actually pose a threat.

The use of his true given name sent a surge of anger through him. No one but Dumbledore used that name anymore and the fact that she was acting like him angered him more than he though it should have. She was his enemy still, it shouldn't have surprised him.

The next thought that drifted through the brat's head made his temper explode in a way that hasn't happened since he regained his sanity. In the very back of his mind he knew the girl didn't mean for him to hear that, or even to purposefully think it. It's not possible to control random thoughts.

But that was way deep in the back of his head and went completely ignored in his rage. He slammed the connection closed so hard that it made his own head throb.

 ** _The nerve of that child!_**

It would take him destroying his training room, torturing Wormtail, and many glasses of fire whiskey before he calmed down.

The echo of pain that he could feel from the link, that was still going strong even hours later, did in no way make him feel bad. He wasn't sorry at all. The annoying chit deserved it for such disrespect. No one spoke to the Dark Lord in such a way, even by accident. He refused to feel an ounce of pity for the witch.

 _So why did he feel the foolish need to apologize?_


	3. Chapter 3

Ava stayed curled up under that tree for hours with her head feeling like it was splitting open. Her scar had stopped bleeding after the first 10 minutes, but the migraine remained. She was in so much pain that she never noticed the sky darkening and her relatives coming home. She didn't notice the temperature dropping as night descended, or her aunt looking at her prone form in disgust as she locked the door and left her niece outside unable to get in.

She woke up late that night and realized that at some point she had passed out. Thankfully her head was no longer hurting, but just to make sure, she tightened her Occlumency barriers as tightly as she could. She strengthened them so much that she probably wouldn't be able to feel it if, for some reason, he tried to mess with their connection again. She was in no way a machinist and had no inclination to test those waters again.

Ava pushed herself into a sitting position and just leaned back against the tree, gazing up at the shadowy leaves, darkened by the night. She had no way to tell how late it was, but if she had to guess, she would say some time after midnight.

She thought about her relatives and wondered how they would react in the morning. The girl didn't even try to get into the house, knowing it would be locked tight and any attempt to enter would be futile. She didn't even contemplate knocking, knowing how painful _that_ would turn out. She wondered if they would just ignore it since she got her chores completed, or punish her for potentially being seen by the neighbors.

The raven haired girl shivered as a soft breeze blew over her, the ratty, too large t-shirt doing nothing to protect her from the cool night air. She just thanked her lucky stars that it wasn't raining. With a soft sigh, Ava resigned herself to a long, uncomfortable night and tried to get as much sleep against the rough tree bark as she could, knowing the next morning was going to be rough, either from her relatives punishing her or from being worked like a slave while exhausted.

The sun was barely rising when she was awakened with a sharp jab from a pointed high-heeled shoe. Thankfully no punishment seemed to be coming, but the chore list that her aunt shoved in her face with a nasty sneer was twice as long as usual.

The next few days were full of nothing but chores and acting invisible. She was thankful that her relatives seemed to be ignoring her for the most part, but it was a bit odd to be standing in a room and having someones eyes pass over you like you're not even there. Ava really couldn't decide what was worse, being locked in a room all day with nothing to do, or being worked to the point of collapse yet being able to be outside.

Her list consisted of vacuuming the whole house, dusting, moping the floor, taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, tending to the garden, weed-eating, cleaning the gutters, grocery shopping, cooking every meal, and even washing the outside of the house and the cars. One day she had to repaint the living room and another she was forced to re-tile the bathroom. After re-tiling it she had to bleach the tub and toilet after thoroughly cleaning both.

All of that she had to do without protective gear, not even gloves. Ava's hands were covered in bruises and cuts, some of which were turning slightly red, showing possible infection. She was sure she would never get the paint out from under her nails or off of her skin. She had been forced to cut her once waist-length, black hair after it started to get matted form lack of care, as well as covered in paint. It now brushed her chin in a curly, choppy mess. She hated it. Ava had never been vain, exactly, but she had loved her long, wild hair. Even if it was a pain to take care of.

She was so exhausted after a week of this treatment that she could barely even think. Her limbs shook from the constant work and she nearly killed herself by stumbling when she was washing a knife. With barely having anything to drink and even less to eat ever since she got there, starvation and dehydration were taking their toll.

When her day finally ended, well after 10 o'clock at night, she was allowed a cheese sandwich and a small glass of water before being locked into her room for the night. With a huff, she flopped onto her hard mattress and just stared blurry-eyed at the ceiling.

 _"Potter."_

Ava barely even blinked at the voice. She was too tired to even care that her occlumency seemed to have failed and the Dark Lord was waltzing around in her head. She didn't answer him. It would have been too much effort. Her mind felt blank.

 _"Answer me girl."_

She nearly groaned at the demand. Couldn't he leave her alone? Just let her die peacefully.

 _"Ava Potter!"_

She did groan that time and forced herself to turn into her stomach where she could bury her head into her flat pillow in the vain attempt to drowned his voice out. Even if she wasn't on the brink of collapse she probably wouldn't have answered. Even if it had been her fault, she did not want a repeat of what happened if she accidentally thought something that he didn't like.

 _"If you do not answer me girl, I may just have to go torture a certain family of blood-traitors."_ Even in her head she could feel his sadistic smile.

Irritation sparked through her, temporarily lifting the veil of exhaustion enough for her to snap, _"please just piss off."_

 _"Do you know how long its been since I've been told to piss off? Actually, I've never been told to piss off."_

Was the Dark Lord trying to start a conversation with her? What the hell? Wasn't he trying to give her brain damage the other day?

 _"I'm sure a lot of people have thought it."_ She answered with a resigned air. The witch just didn't have the energy or will to throw him out.

She felt amusement as he answered, _"but none have been brave, or foolish, enough to say it out loud."_

 _"Probably why your ego could fill Hogwarts."_ She thought with a yawn.

She felt his amusement again and wondered what on earth had the man in such a good mood. The last few times they've had these "conversations" he felt irritated but tolerant at best. Maybe a burst of amusement sprinkled in but mostly just annoyed.

 _"I've had a string of good fortune lately."_ He answered her curiosity, knowing her question even if she didn't fully think it.

 _"Oh? In the mood to share?"_ She thought back with a slightly lethargic edge, her eyes closing tiredly.

A deep laugh was her answer as well as, _"Not this time Potter. Can't have the enemy knowing my plans after all."_

 _"Makes sense…"_ her thoughts started to slow.

 _"You sound tired girl. Passed your bedtime?"_ His tease might have annoyed her if she wasn't half asleep already.

 _"Slave work is tiring."_ She would have been mortified, both at what she had thought as well as the whine that she thought it in, had she been fully aware of it.

 _"Go to sleep girl."_ He sounded exasperated.

"Not the boss of me." She said both out loud and in her head..

She fell asleep to more amused laughter from her enemy.

In the morning Ava would wonder if she had had an actual civil conversation with Lord Voldemort, or if it had been a really weird dream. And if it had been real, why had he contacted her anyway? What had been the point?

* * *

 _ **The Dark Lord**_

Lord Voldemort tried to not think of the Thorn in his Side Potter for the rest of the week following the accidentally made comment and his resulting fury. If he didn't think about it, then the guilt he felt for the 8 hour long migraine he had given her was easy to pretend wasn't real.

Even if he acknowledged how he felt, he would never apologize. His pride would not allow it. Just like he knew she would never apologize for what she thought. He may not know as much about his enemy as he would like, but he recognized pride and an unbreakable will when he saw it. They happen to share that trait.

Ignoring the Potter Problem, The Dark Lord was rather pleased with how his revolution was going. Even with the masses finally realizing that he was indeed back, he was still able to make some headway. He had followers in nearly every department in the ministry, including the Department of Mysteries and the DMLE. A quarter of the Wizengamot were marked followers and another quarter were sympathizers. He had his most loyal followers out of Azkaban and the Light Side wasn't even training the one person that could supposedly defeat him.

Life was good for the Dark Lord at the moment.

In other news, his side project of discovering more about the Potter girl wasn't yielding many results. Careful questioning revealed that no one that would actually give him the information knew where the girl lived. Severus knew she lived with her aunt and uncle from her mother's side, but was under oath to never reveal the information.

Voldemort new better than to listen to anything the Malfoy's had to say about her and none of his other followers' children really payed attention to her. The only useful thing he learned came from the Zabini boy, a neutral sympathizer but not an actual follower.

Blaise Zabini was a quiet boy, and very observant. According to him, Potter was also more of the watchful type. She hated attention and preferred to go about unnoticed. He also shares his suspicions that she didn't have the best home-life. She was the shortest in their year, and even the year younger than them. She was unnaturally thin and never initiated physical contact with anyone. She also got really stiff if anyone touched her. All signs that she wasn't the pampered princess that Severus and the Malfoys painted her to be.

But this didn't answer all of his questions about the girl. If fact, it increased his curiosity. Who exactly was Ava Potter? Why did she fight for those that could obviously not care less about her person? Was she truly the Lights Savior, or was she a snake in the grass? Past conversations with her made him lean towards the later.

It was nearly a week since the last time they spoke that Lord Voldemort felt the connection between them open on her side. With careful prodding, he deduced that the witch was too exhausted to keep her shields up. She didn't even realize they were down.

He sat there contemplating getting her attention. The Girl had been diligent in keeping her shields fully up, so for them to suddenly drop and for her mind to be rather blank, it was slightly worrying. Not that Lord Voldemort would ever acknowledge being worried about the brat. Not at all.

 _"Potter."_ He called to her before he could change his mind.

It took threatening her friends to get her attention and he really couldn't help the amusement that followed her reply. No one told him to piss off without the fear of being _cruciod_. Usually he would feel at least a little irritated by her audacity but he was just relieved that she actually answered. Thankfully, no one would ever know that little tid-bit, not even her.

The Dark Lord was actually a little bit irritated with himself if he was being honest. Worrying for his enemy? He was getting soft. He made a mental note to go torture Wormtail at some point to make sure he wasn't losing his touch.

The fact that she admitted to being treated like a slave was slightly shocking. He knew the only reason she even let that slip was because she was barely conscience. And instead of pressing the advantage and getting more answers from her like he should have done while she was weak and more than likely to answer truthfully, he told her to go to sleep.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated with himself. What kind of dark lord was he? He really was getting soft.

Swiftly getting to his feet, the man called for his soon to be victim. "Wormtail!" He didn't bother hiding his sadistic grin when the cowered scurried into his office.

The little rat-man whimpered.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter warning. Violence and abuse_

 ** _Lord Voldemort_**

Lord Voldemort had been contemplating The Potter Project, as he had taken to calling it in his head, for a few weeks now. The more he thought about the girl, the more they conversed through the link, the more curious he grew about her. She was an enigma.

They had been talking off and on through the link for the past week after her shields had fallen due to exhaustion. It was clear that the girl was weary of his intentions, only a fool wouldn't be, but she was also curious and bored enough to continue bantering with him. Sometimes, they would even answer relatively non-personal questions. Like, he learned that she actually was supposed to be a Slytherin but the Malfoy spawn made her beg for any house that he wasn't in. She also hated most muggles and loathed Dumbledore on nearly the same scale that he, himself, did.

On the other hand, she refused to answer any question about her relatives, why she didn't like muggles, or what Dumbledore had actually done to earn her wrath. It was frustrating and made his curiosity grow. What secrets did the young witch hold? What made her tick? What put the fight in her fighting spirit? He needed to know.

So, he came up with a plan. A plan that came to into being when he finally tracked down the exact location of the Girl-Who-Lived. It may not have been the best plan, nor the most thought out. It was risky and, dare he say it, _Gryffindorish_. Which means, none of the light side would suspect it of him. Perfect.

* * *

 ** _Ava Potter_**

It was safe to say that the young Potter was having a very interesting summer. The first one that she's ever had. And it all came down to someone that she should have considered an enemy. While she didn't consider him a friend yet, it was a close thing. Maybe a frenemy? Or he was just in a category all his own.

Their conversations quickly became the only thing allowing her to make it through her days without going insane. She learned many things about the Dark Side that she had never known. Like what their actual goals are. They weren't looking to decimate, or subjugate muggles. They wanted complete separation as well as a return of Wizarding holidays and traditions and less restrictions on magical creatures.

That all seemed reasonable to her, but she wasn't about to jump aboard the train to the Dark Side without verifying facts. She wasn't stupid, or naive, like she portrayed herself to be. She knew the Dark Lord could be lying, even if she didn't really think so, or even just omitting certain things, which she thought was very likely.

The only reason she had been on the Light Side was because she had thought the Dark Lord was a raving lunatic that would lead their world to ruin. Now that she knew different she would consider herself neutral until she had more information from multiple sources.

Another thing she had learned was that Voldemort had a sarcastic streak that rivaled her own and loved winding her up as much as she did him. That didn't exactly bode well for any future alliance considering they'd most likely end up at each other's throats more often than not just to amuse themselves. She almost felt bad for whoever ended up in the cross-fire. Almost.

With all of that going on, you could say that Ava Potter was nearly enjoying her summer even with her increasing exhaustion due to her workload and the occasional injury resulting from somehow angering her relatives. That is, until a few days before before her 16th birthday.

Ava was mowing the front lawn when she first noticed something suspicious. The couple from across the street in house number 6 was moving out. That in itself wasn't suspicious but the fact that they were heard talking about how the urge to move and experience a newer environment had come upon them suddenly and without warning, was.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew the Kennedys. They were an older couple, unable to have children, and lived in the neighborhood their whole lives without any inclination to leave. The fact that they didn't even stop to really think about their decision to move before they went and bought a house elsewhere was worrying. That they had everything packed and ready to go within two days, even more so.

Ava Potter just knew that her funny luck was acting up again. Something big was about to happen. Her instincts warned her to prepare for a change. She just couldn't decide if it was going to be good or not.

 _"My neighbors randomly decided to move house this week."_ Ava lazily thought to an oddly cheerful Dark Lord later that day. _"It was unexpected and highly suspicious."_

 _"Oh?"_ His amusement went up a notch. _"Why would I care about the oddness of some random muggles. Or better yet, why do you?"_

Ava huffed and rolled onto her stomach on the grass of the back yard. She was locked out for the day again so she decided to lay under the tree for some shade after she finished the yard work.

 _"It's just odd. And worrying. I don't trust their sudden urge to move when they have never wanted to before."_

 _"Careful Potter. Your paranoia is showing."_ She could feel his smirk. The urge to wipe it off his face was strong.

 _"It's not paranoia if they are really out to get you."_ She thought back with a smirk of her own.

 _"You'll end up as crazy as Mad-eye Moody by the time you reach majority."_

She rolled her eyes and flopped back into her back. ** _"Constant vigilance!"_**

She felt the man start at her suddenly louder thought and a laugh burst from her lips at the irritation she felt come from him.

 _"Why I put up with you is beyond me."_

 _"I'm vastly entertaining."_ She knew she had an unrepentant smile on her face.

 _"Vastly irritating."_ Was the grumbled repose but she could feel his reluctant amusement anyway.

The link closed off after that and Ava was content to just lay on the ground and watch as the sky steadily got darker. It would be another hour before her relatives got home and let her back in. She cooked them their dinner and retired to her room with her sandwich and settled in for a relatively peaceful night.

She should have known her good mood wouldn't last.

 _Shadows surrounded her in a sea of endless darkness as voices whispered around her. Some words she couldn't make out, and some she wished she couldn't._

 ** _Kill the spare_**

 ** _Freak_**

 ** _Ungrateful little monster_**

 ** _I killed Sirius, I killed Sirius_**

 ** _There was a prophecy_**

 ** _Neither can live while the other survives_**

 ** _Stand aside girl_**

 ** _Not Ava! Please, kill me instead!_**

 ** _Pup_**

 ** _Sirius!_**

 ** _Avada kadavra_**

 _Images accompanied each voice, swirling around her at dizzying speeds. Cedric's lifeless eyes, uncle Vernon's purple, enraged face, aunt Petunia's disgusted sneer, Bellatrix cackling as she ran through the ministry, Dumbledore's fake sympathetic face, Trelawney's hoarse voice, an older Tom Riddle as her enemy, her mother's pleading face, her godfather falling through the veil as she desperately called for him. And then a green light that was blinding._

Ava woke with a scream.

She hadn't even been able to gather her bearings before her door was flung open with such force it nearly flew off the hinges. She was grabbed roughly by the hair and her teary, green eyes met the furious, beady ones of her uncle. His hair was messed up from sleep and he was in his night clothes, proving that her nightmares had once again woken him up.

He flung her across the room like she weighed nothing and her small body slammed against the rickety wardrobe, nearly shattering its doors with the force. Her vision blurred for a moment and her head spun. She could hear her uncle yelling at her but it was like static in her ears.

He grabbed her again and forced her to the ground with his beefy hands wrapped around her thin neck. It took a minute for the lack of oxygen to catch up to her and she almost detachedly came to the realization that her uncle was strangling her. It wouldn't be the first time that he choked her into unconsciousness. She didn't fight it. When she was knocked unconscious, she never dreamed.

She almost smiled when the blackness took over her eyesight and her mind when blissfully blank.

* * *

She was locked into her room the next day and unable to get out. She didn't mind. Her body throbbed from its meeting with the wardrobe the night before and she could use the reprieve from the manual labor.

Her neck was swollen and breathing was a bit difficult so she just laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She hadn't had a nightmare in a couple of weeks. Not since she started talking to the Dark Lord at any rate. So she had been completely caught off guard by the intensity of the last one.

Her mind was so chaotic that she made sure to keep the Link completely closed for the day. Not that it really mattered. She could feel the Dark Lords distraction before she had closed it off.

A part of her was curious about what he was up to, but the larger part of her just wanted to curl up and ignore the world for a while. So that's what she did.

* * *

It wasn't until her birthday, a few days later, that anything changed. She had been in her room that whole time besides that one bathroom break a day that she was allowed. She hadn't eaten anything in that time which was obviously her punishment for waking up her normal relatives with her freakish nightmares. She looked like she had an eating disorder by then.

The door suddenly opening drew her attention as her aunt stood in the doorway with her usual sneer.

"We have a new neighbor. Cover up that hideous bruise and take a pie over. Invite them to afternoon tea and then make yourself scarce."

Ava reached up to rub at her neck with a grimace as her aunt left. Though she couldn't see it, she knew it was badly busied. The skin felt tight and it hurt to even swallow. How she was expected to actually speak to this new neighbor was beyond her. She'd wing it, she supposed.

With a slightly depressed sigh she got up to use the bathroom and then to find some type of scarf to cover her neck.

She hadn't talked to the Dark Lord in the three days she had been on lock down. She had felt him poke at the connection on the second day, obviously done with whatever had distracted him, but she hadn't answered, just tightened her barriers in a clear unwillingness to talk.

He hadn't attempted to talk again that day.

Then yesterday he kept poking at her with annoying constancy. He wouldn't take no for an answer and she ended up with a headache by the time he gave up.

It wasn't like she didn't want to talk to him. She just knew she was weak, both in body and mind, at the moment and knew that if she talked to him she would end up revealing much more about herself and her circumstance then she ever intended to. She couldn't take that chance when she didn't fully trust him yet. So no matter how tempting it was, she wouldn't talk to him until she was healed.

She could feel his annoyance at being ignored even with her strengthened barriers. For once, it didn't amuse her.

After finding a piece of cloth that could somewhat pass for a scarf, Ava grabbed a pie, that her aunt had obviously bought at a store and was trying to pass off as her own creation, and headed across the street. As she neared the house, her eyes narrowed. She hadn't forgotten her suspicions about this place, and paranoid or not, something didn't feel quite right with it.

With caution she approached the door and rang the bell. She was very unprepared for what greeted her when the door opened.

The man was undeniably handsome. He was in his early thirties with pure black hair and rich brown eyes that had a tint of red to them. His face was aristocratic with high cheekbones and a narrow, straight nose. A smirk twisted his perfectly cherry red lips and his whole being gave off an arrogant yet powerful vibe.

He was an older version to the Tom Marvolo Riddle she had met her second year.

Now she really wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

She settled for a surprised "oh." And then dropped into a dead faint.


	5. Chapter 5

Lord Voldemort smirked down at the girl at his feet in amusement. He was used to women and men fainting at the sight of him, but he could honestly say he had never expected such from Potter. She really didn't seem like the fainting type.

The aristocratic looking man glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he flicked his wand and levitated the girl into his new house, ignoring the now inedible pie that was smashed on his doorstep. He contemplated just leaving her on the floor until she woke, seeing as how he had yet to actually purchase furniture besides two reading chairs, mainly so he had somewhere to sit, but knew she would give him a headache for it should she wake up down there. It wasn't worth the pain.

With a put-upon sigh, the man sat Ava down and went about transfiguring a couch out of one of the chairs. He then proceeded to place the girl down on it before seating himself in the other.

Voldemort leaned back in an elegantly relaxed manner and narrowed his eyes at the sleeping visage of his once enemy. Looking at the girl, it was obvious that she was far from healthy. She was stick thin and had dark circles under her eyes. She was wearing a ripped, stained, and threadbare t-shirt that practically swallowed her tiny frame. Her jeans were just as bad, if not worse and clearly used to belong to a male many times her weight. Her thin, pale arms were covered in bruises and jagged scars and if he had to guess, he'd say the rest of her body probably wasn't any better. And that hideous piece of cloth that was still haphazardly wrapped around her neck...

With careful movements, so he wouldn't wake her up, Voldemort slid the cloth from around her throat and dropped it on the floor. He reared back with slightly wide eyes at the sight that met him. Thick, dark bruises circled the entirety of her neck in the shape of hands. Big hands. Someone had strangled the girl.

Anger sparked through the Dark Lord with a ferocity that surprised him. He had been suspicious that she was being abused, or at least horrendously neglected, but this... How had no one noticed this? It was impossible to miss.

Voldemort tore his eyes from the discolored skin and glanced out of his window to the house across the street. Even from there he could see a horse-faced muggle looking out the window and spying on the neighbors. _Maybe I should go and pay them a...neighborly visit._ He thought while absentmindedly twirling his wand. _Maybe introduce myself and teach them how to treat my things._ And Ava Potter was his. The girl herself may disagree, but he had a claim on her ever since that blasted prophecy came out. At first, she was his to kill, now she was his to keep.

She was the only one to escape from him, multiple times and with few injuries to show for it. She was the only one that could match him in wit and power. She didn't fear him or revere him. He would not allow others to get away with hurting her.

Movement from the make-shift couch pulled him from his murderous thoughts and brought his attention back to the girl. Her eyes were fluttering as she fought for consciousness and she shifted slightly before opening her poisonous green eyes in confusion.

* * *

 _ **Ava Potter**_

Ava fought back a groan as she slowly regained consciousness and wondered confusedly why she was unconscious in the first place. She didn't feel any new injuries that would explain it and for some reason it felt like she was laying on a cloud.

Forcing her eyes open, Ava was greeted with an off-white ceiling that greatly resembled the living room ceiling of her relative's house. She knew it wasn't the same ceiling though, as there was a cobweb in the left corner. Her aunt would never stand for such a thing.

Which begged the question, where was she? And why was she unconscious there?

That's when she remembered going to the new neighbor's house with a pie to invite them to her aunt's tea. She also remembered the man that had opened the door and suddenly had the urge to jump off of a cliff. She had _fainted_ in front of **_Voldemort!_** Oh, he was never going to let her live this down.

Slowly, the girl turned her head and met the brownish-red eyes of the man that did not look very happy. She wondered, for a moment, what had his knickers in a twist, before she noticed him glancing at her neck and his expression tightening.

With a jolt, her hand flew up to meet her bruised skin that was scarf free and she grimaced. Well, looks like the cat's out of the bag now. No way to explain away bruises in the shape of hand-prints.

"Is there a reason you bought a house in a muggle neighborhood?" Her voice was whispery and hoarse, which just made her grimace more. She wouldn't be able to distract him from unwanted questions when her very voice reminded him of her injuries.

"Is there a reason you look to be on your death-bed?" He threw back in smooth drawl and a raised eyebrow.

Ava sniffed in derision and said, "It's not considered polite to comment on a Lady's looks you know."

The Dark Lord smirked mockingly and said, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm in the presence of a Lady."

Ava huffed in amusement, then grimaced while rubbing at her neck, "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."

"Explain this, Potter." He demanded, gesturing to her visible injuries.

The dark-haired girl crossed her arms defiantly after sitting up and said, "I don't think that is any of your business, Tom." She knew he would hate to hear his given name and she was hopping his temper would make him forget his questions. It was a long shot, and risky with him being a curse-happy Dark Lord, but she was stubborn enough to try and keep her secrets.

The stinging hex that hit her thigh made her jump with a squeak and look at the man with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Do not use that name girl. And answer me!" His eyes were more red than brown at that point, but he was holding onto his anger remarkably well. Ava had been expecting a _crusio_ at least, not a stinging hex. That was nearly as bad as spanking her!

"My relatives don't exactly care for me. You know that." She grumbled, fighting off embarrassment.

"They physically abuse you." It was a statement, but Ava knew he was looking for confirmation as well. Why he wanted her to admit it, when he knew the truth, was beyond her.

"For as long as I can remember, they have abused me." She had to fight off a flush of shame. She had nothing to be ashamed about, she knew that, but admitting to the Dark Lord that she was weak against muggles made her cringe. She didn't want him to think she was pathetic.

"I could kill them for you." He spoke casually, but there was a hopeful look on his face.

Ava startled at the suggestion. She would freely admit to fantasizing about killing her relatives, sometimes she'd even dream of how many ways she could torture them before they died. Sicking Lord Voldemort on them had never even crossed her mind.

The offer was tempting, oh, so tempting. The Potter heiress knew that the Dark Lord would know many more ways to make them feel pain than she did. But she wanted the satisfaction of ending their miserable lives herself, which meant waiting another year for the Trace to be gone.

"I'd rather you didn't." The older man must have seen something in her face because instead of arguing, like she half expected he wanted to, he just nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Then you will stay here." He said in tone that warned her not to argue.

She did anyway.

"I can't stay here! The order would notice and I really don't want to have to explain to Dumbledore why I'm not 'safe' at my relative's house." She exclaimed.

The Dark Lord sneered at the mention of the old fool and said, "If they haven't noticed you looking like an inferi, then they won't notice you staying across the street."

"My relatives won't stay quiet about it. They rely on my slave labor."

He just casually waved his wand with a smirk, "Magic, My Dear. They won't say a thing."

Ava couldn't really refute that. She wasn't sure why she was arguing so hard against this anyway. A summer away from them was like a dream to her.

"Why do you care if I stay there or here? Why are you even here in the first place?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I'm here because I'm bored, my minions are useless, and you are entertaining. As for why I care...you are mine Ava Potter. Only I'm allowed to damage you in any way." He spoke the last part in a dangerous whisper and Ava felt a shiver run down her spine. To her shame, it wasn't from fear.

"Excuse me? I am not a possession!" She tried to express outrage, but confusion was what came through.

"Not a possession. But you are mine." His voice was firm and his completely red eyes captured her own with the intensity of his stare.

"I..." Ava had to shake herself out of the daze that his look had put her in before she huffed and said almost petulantly, "Then you're mine."

Suddenly the Dark Lord was in her space, leaning over her as she leaned back into the cushions in surprise. His face was inches from her own and she, once again, found herself captivated by his red irises.

"Is that what you want, Ava? For me to be yours?" His voice was soft and silky with all the deceptiveness of a snake in disguise.

Ava found herself answering automatically and without much thought as his slightly spicy scent invaded her nostrils, "Yes."

With a growl, the man pulled her firmly to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. His lips were soft and his tongue expertly plunged into her mouth when she gasped at his unexpected move. It took Ava's brain a moment to restart after the sudden thought of, _Lord Voldemort is kissing me_. When it did, the girl curled her fingers into the front of his dark green, button up shirt and she kissed him back as best as she could.

When he finally pulled back, a pleased smirk graced his handsome face at the sight of her ruffled hair, kiss swollen lips, and lust glazed eyes. She was breathing heavily and nearly whined when he pulled away.

"Then you are mine, and I am yours. No one will ever lay a hand on you again." He whispered and tenderly stroked her face.

Ava blinked slightly in wonder at the affectionate touch. _Did he really mean that?_ She had never given much thought about being in a relationship with anyone. That had even been her first kiss. Most boys around her age were just too immature for her to deal with and with how the war had been going, she hadn't expected to live long enough to even contemplate finding a romantic interest. She knew being with Voldemort, of all people, would be hard, but she even surprised herself with how willing she was to try.

"Fine, I'll stay here." She said, unsure what else to say, really. She was a bit out of her comfort zone.

"Good. Let's go get your things and mess with your relative's minds." His grin was vicious.

Ava giggled and got up to head for the door, before looking over her shoulder and saying with a teasing smile, "You know, for an old man, you're a pretty decent kisser."

She squealed as a stinging hex hit her backside as she ran out the door and the Dark Lord shook his head with a small fond smile. "Brat."


End file.
